Past Expiration Date
by GeekSoup
Summary: Medic is murdered following an altered version of the events of "Expiration Date." RED team has to come to terms with the actions of one of their own, while their fallen colleagues must adjust to life on "the other side." Uncertainty and fear fill the base as shadowy figures stalk the halls, awaiting a chance for revenge. Post-"Expiration Date" Alternate Universe.
1. Chapter 1

**Past** _ **Expiration Date**_

(Original Concept by Crusader'sCrossbow/JamInc333)

Scout stared at the bland ceiling of Medic's lab. It had been nearly five hours since the other eight members of RED team had found him huddled beside the bread monster's…. corpse, cradling a severely injured Miss Pauling. She and Scout hadn't been able to dive into the bread monster's gaping mouth before the payload exploded.

Both he and Miss Pauling were badly burned from the blast. Scout had received many gashes all over his body, but Pauling's condition was more severe. Large pieces of shrapnel had been sticking out of her chest, and she was bleeding badly when Scout had found her.

With help from the rest of the team, Medic managed to get Miss Pauling and Scout into the infirmary and under a medigun quickly. Medic hooked Scout up to an IV drip and lightly wrapped his burns before rushing off to operate on Miss Pauling. Scout had begged for hours to be wheeled into the operating room so he could watch the procedure. His teammates had ignored his pleas, giving him worried looks and shaking their heads every time Scout tried to get up from his bed.

 _It had been nearly five hours_. At this point, Scout's burns and cuts had almost fully healed, thanks to the Medigun beam Medic had put him under. He had given up on asking to see Miss Pauling. Most of RED team had gone off after a while to clean up the mess the bread monster had left behind, but the Sniper had stayed behind to help Medic and keep an eye on Scout.

Scout could hear Medic muttering as he continued to operate on Miss Pauling. "Why's he saying all that?" Scout asked weakly. Sniper got up from his small folding chair to take a peek in the operating room. He sat down again. "Eh…. I don't think she's doing well, Scout," Sniper responded after what felt like an eternity. Scout jolted upright, but immediately lay back down from the pain. "What- what d'you mean?"

The two men were interrupted by Medic's shout of dismay. Sniper flung open the operation room's swinging doors, concern on his face. Scout struggled to prop himself up on the bed to get a better view. "Doc? Is everything alright?" Sniper inquired cautiously. The only response was Medic's frustrated yelling. " _Scheiß!_ She was alive for so long; how did it move?! If I had known it was so close- she would- I could have- _ach!_ " Medic slammed his fists on the operating table.

"Whoa, whoa, what happened?! What…." Scout trailed off as the he realized what was wrong. His jaw dropped in shock and disbelief. "No…. she's so strong, though-!"

Medic shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Scout. I did everything I could…."

Scout fell limply back onto the sheets. Miss Pauling was dead. And it was his fault. Scout had been the one to pull the briefcase alarm, causing Pauling to come rushing over. All Scout had wanted was to have a nice date with her, maybe even a little kiss. But that was ruined, and Miss Pauling was dead, because of the bread monster Soldier had-

Wait. It was _Soldier's_ fault that Miss Pauling was dead! Soldier had done nothing but teleport bread for three days and had accidentally created the giant bread monster.

Scout's head spun and he felt tears slowly welling up in his eyes. He stared emptily at the ceiling. Miss Pauling was _dead._ "What killed her, Doc?" Scout heard Sniper ask. Medic sighed heavily. "A piece of shrapnel pierced her heart before I could remove it. I can only assume that over time, the shrapnel moved further into the flesh and…. I didn't notice until the monitor went flat. I _wish_ I had gotten it out sooner!"

Sniper reassured Medic that he did his best, then left to go tell the rest of RED the news. Scout shut his eyes. He didn't want to look at anything anymore. He didn't want to hear anyone talk. Eventually, the boy slipped into an uneasy sleep.

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first, although short, chapter of my story! Please leave a review of constructive criticism for me, I'd love to hear what you think and how you believe I can improve. Thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

Scout awoke to Medic tiredly explaining last night's events to an elderly woman with a clipped English accent. "It's quite the shame to lose such a wonderful assistant," the woman told Medic. "But I'm sure that Mr. Bidwell will suffice for now. Thank you for the attempt, doctor." Medic bowed his head. "The thanks goes to you, _Frau_ Administrator."

Scout lifted his head. Miss Pauling's body was no longer on the operating table; it must have been taken away. He saw Medic sluggishly move to clean his surgical instruments, his back turned to Scout. Having regained most of his strength overnight, Scout slowly slid off the infirmary bed and crept into the operating room. Medic hadn't noticed him enter; the doctor was talking to himself. "Why on earth didn't I pull it out sooner? Oh, this is my fault! At least the Administrator didn't _seem_ too upset…."

Medic continued to scold himself, still having not noticed Scout. The boy was frozen in place behind the doctor. That was right: Medic killed Miss Pauling. He messed up and killed the one woman Scout loved as much as his Ma.

And he was going to pay for it.

Medic lifted a tray of scalpels and tweezers and carried it to the sink. Scout looked to the side and saw another tray, full of very long, very _sharp_ needles. Scout snatched the one biggest one on the tray and lithely made his way to the sink. He prowled behind Medic, his shoulders hunched, clutching the needle like a knife.

As Scout quietly lifted his arm to stab into Medic's back, he happened to glance in the mirror hanging behind the sink. He saw his own bruised face glaring back at him, wild eyes glistening and angry. Startled, Scout inhaled sharply, shuffling back. The noise finally alerted Medic to the boy's presence.

Medic looked up at Scout's reflection, and, noticing the needle raised in his hand, whipped around to face Scout. The doctor's jaw dropped, his wide eyes darting around the room. "Scout, what are you-"

Scout didn't want to hear this man speak to him. He didn't want this man's empathy or pity or anything else. He didn't need Medic to console him, drug him, or fix him. Scout's heart hurt, broken beyond repair. In overlooking that one piece of shrapnel, this man killed Miss Pauling, and he was going pay his dues.

A massive wave of rage consumed Scout as he seized Medic's neck and slammed the doctor's head against the mirror. Medic yelped as Scout pushed him against the sink, causing his back to make awful popping noises. Scout grasped the needle tighter and raised it high. "Scout-!" Medic choked, his face red from lack of air. Another wave of emotion crashed over Scout, and he viciously jabbed the needle into Medic's shoulder. The doctor shouted in pain, struggling to free himself from Scout's grip. "Listen here, you kraut _bastard_ ," Scout's voice shook. "You killed her! You _killed_ her, you- you _psychopath!_ "

Medic frantically shook his head, grimacing and clawing at the hand around his neck. "I- I did no such thing! Scout, I did everything I could do!"

"Well that wasn't enough now, _was it?!_ " Scout removed the needle from Medic's shoulder and stabbed it into his other one. The doctor jerked in Scout's grip, hitting his head on the mirror once again.

"I'm sorry, Scout! I'm sorry! Please, she meant a lot to me too! She meant so much to all of RED! Ack- _Gott in himmel-!_ "

Scout twisted the needle further into Medic's shoulder. "You could have saved her! She could be standing here _right now_ if it wasn't for _you!_ " Angry tears spilled from Scout's eyes. "You _killed_ her!"

Medic's eyes widened in fear as the needle glinted in Scout's hand, just above his chest. "No, Scout, _please_ no! You don't know what you're doing! The team needs-"

Medic went slack in Scout's grip, his sentence cut off by the shock of the needle in his chest. Scout squared his jaw and released Medic's neck, wiping his trembling hand on his pants and stepping back. Medic's knees buckled and he collapsed on the cold floor of the infirmary. Scout watched as his victim weakly sat up and leaned against the cabinets.

Medic's chest rose and fell unevenly as he lifted a shaky hand to the needle. He hissed in pain. With much effort, he pulled it out of his chest and let the needle fall into his lap. The doctor looked up at Scout, who was still quivering with anger. The sudden contortion of Medic's strained expression to that of animosity snapped Scout out of his fury. He jumped backwards, hands out on defense. "You stupid boy. You stupid, _stupid_ boy! Letting your grief get the best of you…." Medic growled.

Scout watched as Medic struggled for air. His coughs sounded wet and blood spattered on the front of his coat. The doctor finally inhaled sharply and convulsed. Medic shuddered once and then became limp, the air slowly leaving his body. His glassy eyes seemed to bore into Scout's soul.

Scout staggered, knocking into the operating table. He gaped in horror at the scene in front of him. It was a murder, a murder that he had committed.

He had just _murdered_ Medic.

Scout flinched at the sound of the infirmary doors bursting open, revealing the entirety of RED team. They looked from Scout to Medic's dead body in silence. Scout leaned heavily against the operating table, his bottom lip trembling. It felt like a million years before Engineer finally managed to sputter: "What- what the _hell_ have you done?!"

Before any of the team could move, Scout had sprinted to the infirmary's window, thrown up the catch, and sprung away from RED base.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this second chapter! I truly appreciate the reviews and advice I've been given so far. As I said, I'm always looking for ways to improve and I'd love to know that you think. Thank you again for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

Medic opened his eyes groggily. He found that he felt stiff, and his chest throbbed with a dull pain. He frowned and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Medic supposed he fell asleep in the infirmary (as he often did): he had dreamed of the rolling hills of Germany, his hometown, his mother smiling at him, a hand outstretched for him to take. He reached his own arm out, hoping that his brief dream was real.

Nope, still sitting on the floor of the infirmary. He tilted his head back and sighed heavily, a bit disappointed. He let his hand drop and rest on his knee. Medic sat up straighter, but he noticed there was no sensation of his body following the action. His brow furrowed briefly before bewilderment overtook him.

The arm that was _supposed_ to be on his knee was hanging limply at his side. His coat was splotched with blood, and in his lap was a needle coated with blood-

Hold on. Did he…. _die?_

Medic scrambled to get up from the floor. As he stood, he whipped around to see his physical body slumped against the sink, very much dead. Its lifeless eyes stared back at him. "Oh, _Gott,_ " he whispered. Medic swayed, vision going fuzzy. He attempted to grab hold of the examination table to steady himself. Instead of gripping the side, however, his hand _passed through_ the table and he crashed back to the floor. Medic groaned and heaved himself off the ground again. His hands and legs trembled. Why wasn't he able to touch the table?

 _….Oh._ Medic began to connect the dots as to what was going on. The ache in his chest and shoulders increased.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he breathed deeply (despite not needing to) until he stopped shaking. Now more composed, he turned back to the sink. "How _wunderbar_ ," he told his dead body. Medic crouched in front of his body and cupped its chin in his hands. Oh, so _now_ he was able to touch physical things. "How curious," he murmured.

Medic, now intrigued by his corpse, tweaked its nose. The movement caused the spectacles his body wore to slide forward. Medic sat back on his haunches, pleased that he made some sort of alteration to the physical world. After a minute, he stood and walked back to the examination table. Medic furrowed his brow and grabbed the table's edge.

 _That's odd,_ he thought. _Just a moment ago my hand went through the table._ He noticed a stray scalpel lying on the table, and cautiously pushed it off the edge. It clattered to the floor. Medic returned to where his corpse was and pulled open one of the cabinets next to it. He shut it and pulled back his hand, staring at it. "How curious," he said again.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Medic stood to see who was coming. It was Sniper.

The Aussie walked past Medic and came to a stop in front of his corpse. Sniper took off Medic's spectacles and slid a hand over the body's open eyelids, closing them. Medic shifted uneasily; his corpse now looked as if it were sleeping peacefully. Sniper sat down on the infirmary's concrete floor. He took off his aviators and rubbed his eyes. Sniper sighed heavily. "Gerard," he said simply.

Medic's eyebrows raised. It had been a long time since he had heard Sniper say his name. Sniper had always been so friendly to Medic. It hadn't been uncommon to find him and Sniper sitting in the infirmary, discussing this and that. Not long after Sniper's visits became regular, the two had exchanged their birth names, something that had been stripped from them upon joining the Gravel War. But as the war went on, Sniper and Medic both became busy and their chats were less frequent, to the point where they barely saw each other.

Medic sat cross legged next to Sniper and cautiously placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Sniper shivered. "Bloody cold in here," he said, rubbing his arms for warmth.

"Gerard, why'd he do it? Why'd the boy have to up and _murder_ you?" Sniper pushed the glasses back on the corpse's face. His hand lingered. "What the bloody hell made Scout go mad like that?"

"Lawrence," Medic said, desperately hoping that Sniper would respond to him calling his name. Medic wished that he could do something. Sniper had been his friend, and now his friend was mourning his death, unaware that Medic was next to him. He was so frustrated that all he could do was sit and watch Sniper stare dejectedly at his dead body, his body that would never respawn.

He would never respawn because a teammate killed him.

That stupid boy. Because of Scout, RED team wouldn't have a medic. Because of Scout, Medic was dead, a ghost that was damned to walk the earth, alone, for eternity. Medic was furious with Scout and what he did.

Medic would make that stupid, stupid boy suffer.

* * *

Sniper barely believe it. The true friend he had among RED team was dead in front of him. Sniper was used to being alone, but it had been nice to have someone to talk to and share the occasional beer with. "Dammit, Gerard!" he yelled. "What're we gonna do now?! We don't need more dead folks here! I- I don't…."

Sniper's shoulders rose and fell quickly, his nails pressing hard into his palms. He tried to even out his breath and unclenched his fists. Everything about him looked deflated, even the brim of his hat drooped. Sniper pushed his hat back and squared his jaw. Shouting at it wasn't going to move Medic's body out of the infirmary. With his gloved hand, Sniper gingerly took the bloody needle from Medic's lap and placed it on the counter. Then he bowed his head and gently lifted Medic's body in his arms. "Alright, Gerard, let's get you out of here."

* * *

 _A/N: I'm sorry for not updating this story in a while! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, I'd love to hear from my readers to know what I need to improve on. Thank you for reading, and for being patient for this chapter!_


	4. Chapter 4

All Medic could do was silently follow Sniper and wonder what was going to happen to his corpse. What were the rest of the mercs going to do with his body? A burial would be nice. If that happened, maybe Medic wouldn't be a ghost anymore and could go wherever it was that dead people went. Medic saw that Sniper was approaching RED base's exit, and his hopes for six-feet-under grew high.

Those hopes immediately plummeted when Sniper turned the corner left, toward Engineer's workshop, instead of right, which would lead outside. Medic stopped short. Why would Sniper bring his body to Engineer? Perhaps the good Texan wanted to perform an autopsy, but everyone already knew how Medic died. Or maybe Engineer wanted to remove the Übercharge pacemaker lodged in Medic's heart.

Yes, yes, that was probably it. Engie could do all sorts of things with the pacemaker to improve his machines. Reassured, Medic caught up with Sniper and followed him into the workshop.

"Oi, Truckie," Sniper said, nudging the door open with his knee. Engineer was tinkering with a sentry on his workbench. "Ah, you made it," Engie replied, not looking up from the sentry. Sniper coughed lightly and held Medic's body out to Engineer.

Engie flinched, seemingly startled, but then relaxed and set his wrench in a toolbox. "Right, right. Sorry man, got lost in my work! Always room for improvement, y'know," he chuckled amiably. Medic tiptoed around Sniper to stand by the workbench. He was nearly hit by the barrel of Engineer's sentry gun as he lifted it off the workbench. Medic huffed with annoyance and stepped closer to Engie.

"Hey, Sniper, would you shut the door? You're lettin' a draft in. Did it turn winter out there all of a sudden?" Engineer shivered as he pulled his sleeves down to keep warm. Sniper gently laid Medic's body on the empty workbench before closing the door. Engineer removed his helmet and goggles. "I didn't realize how terrible the man looked, bless him." He examined Medic's corpse carefully, gingerly touching the stab wounds. Medic couldn't help but wince at the sharp ache in his chest.

"Must've been an awfully big needle Scout got 'im with, huh?" Engie remarked, raising an eyebrow at Sniper. The Aussie nodded. "Yeah, it was about…." he held his thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart. "This thick? I dunno."

Engineer frowned and leaned in closer to the corpse's face, peering at his and Sniper's reflection in Medic's glasses.

Medic had leaned over to observe his body earlier, and had faintly seen his own reflection in the glasses too. Engineer must have noticed that as well, because Medic saw Engie's eyes lock onto his reflection. "What in the…." Engineer seemed confused. His eyes traced Medic's reflection up to where he should be standing, and reached his arm out.

Medic jumped and quickly stepped back, Engie's gloved hand nearly brushing his stomach. Medic made a mental note to stay away from eyewear and other reflective objects in the future.

Sniper glanced up at Engie. "What's the matter?" he asked. Engineer shook his head and rubbed his eyes. His shoulders sagged. "It's nothin'. I just thought I saw something, is all."

Sniper stared hard at him. "Really, it's nothin'! I'm about dead tired too, Lawrence, so cut me a little slack here!" Engie pleaded, rubbing his eyes again as if to prove his point. Sniper avoided Engineer's gaze and shuffled his feet, backing away from Engie. Engineer muttered something under his breath and dragged a hand down his face. "Look, Sniper, I'm sorry I raised my voice. I am doin' fine, it's just…."

Sniper awkwardly patted Engineer on the back. "Whatever you say, mate." His gaze lingered on Medic's body before he turned to leave Engie's workshop. "It's been a rough day for me, Dell….think I'm gonna head to bed," Sniper said softly, one hand on the doorknob. Engie looked up from Medic's corpse and smiled weakly. "It's been a rough day for all of us, Lawrence. I think I'm gonna turn in, too, after I get the Über pacer out of Medic." Sniper opened the door and had only taken one step before Engineer interrupted him again.

"And callin' me by my name, that's a bit strange for you, Sniper," he said. Sniper shrugged. "Strange for you to say m'name, too," he shot back before closing the workshop door behind him, leaving Medic and Engie alone.

Engie shook his head. "Odd, that one." He began to carefully remove the bloodied overcoat, waistcoat, and shirt from Medic's corpse. Engineer reached for an open box of scalpels and other tools Medic hadn't known Engie had. He put his helmet and goggles back on, and selected one of the bigger scalpels. Engineer held the blade at the top of the body's exposed shoulder, a bit away from the needle wound there.

So Medic had been right: Engie wanted the pacemaker. He stood beside Engineer, curious as to how well the Texan would be able to cut him open. The scalpel dug into the cold flesh. "I hate to do this to you, doc, but…." Engie trailed off, grimacing as he slid the knife deep through the skin toward the sternum.

"I know you do, Dell," Medic murmured, leaning against the workbench as Engie repeated the cut on the opposite shoulder. "I know."


	5. Chapter 5

Miss Pauling couldn't remember when she had woken up. She had simply found herself lying amongst the wreckage that had once been the interior of RED base. Her chest and legs throbbed with a phantom pain.

When she had finally sat up, she had been puzzled. The last thing she _did_ remember was urgently pulling Scout along to try and take cover in the bread-monster's mouth, and then hearing a deafening explosion and being thrown violently to the side. She remembered Scout yelling at her and feeling sharp things pierce her chest and more yelling….

And then nothing.

She had stood up to look around. Miss Pauling noticed that Scout was gone (as well as the bread monster), and that it was nearly nighttime. She had sighed and began to walk back to the still-closed blast doors. She tried to grab her radio to call the Administrator, but it wasn't at her waist. It was on the ground a few feet away; she assumed it had fallen off of her belt at one point. Pauling bent down and attempted to pick up the radio, but her hand passed right through it.

It was then Miss Pauling had realized that she wasn't alive anymore. She scrambled back to where she had been lying, and there had been blood- probably her blood- spattered on the ground. Miss Pauling fell to her knees in shock.

How could she have died? She had a job to do: watching the mercs, attending to legal and ethical issues, helping the Administrator, paperwork, burying bodies…. She had so much left to do.

But, she had thought, I can still do all of it. Can't I?

* * *

In the present, Miss Pauling was wandering RED base's halls, trying to figure out how exactly she was going to get her work done.

She startled herself by passing through a wall again, a skill she had discovered a bit earlier by not paying attention and slipping through the refrigerator in the kitchen. Miss Pauling turned the corner and saw the base's exit. Maybe she could leave and get help from…. someone. Maybe she could find that wizard guy that popped up every Halloween, he might help. She started toward the exit.

Pauling pushed on the gate. For some reason, it was tangible, unlike every other object she had touched recently. She tried passing through it, shoving the gate with her shoulder. All she succeeded in doing was make the gate rattle a bit as she pressed against it. To test, Pauling put her hand on the opposite wall.

It went straight through.

So, why couldn't she go through the gate? A voice echoing down the hallway from the Engineer's workshop caught her attention. Pauling peered around the corner. Engie's workshop door was open, and the lights were on. She would have to investigate the gate later, something far more interesting seemed to be happening.

The voice she had heard before spoke again: "...I get the Über pacemaker out of Medic." Pauling gasped. That was Engineer's voice. Why did he need the pacemaker? And what had happened to Medic? Engineer's gloved hand appeared and waved at Sniper, who was standing in the workshop's doorway. He began to walk out into the hallway. "And that callin' me by my name, it's a bit strange for you, Sniper," Engineer's voice called again. Sniper shrugged and replied gruffly, "Strange for you to say m'name, too," before shutting the door.

Miss Pauling had unknowingly crept slowly closer as she listened, so Sniper's elbow passed through her forearm when he closed the door. Pauling flinched away and remained as close to the wall as she could. Sniper stomped his foot on the floor and swore colorfully. "Why does it have to be so damn _cold_ everywhere?!" he exclaimed, stalking away towards the base's exit.

Pauling lit up at this. Maybe when Sniper opened the gate, she could get through!

By the time they reached the gate, Pauling noticed that Sniper was shivering. Was it really that cold? October shouldn't be having this sort of weather. She supposed that he just hadn't adjusted to the colder climate yet.

Sniper fumbled with the latch. It clicked loose and the gates swung open, clanging against the outside wall. The Aussie marched through them, and Miss Pauling followed him. She lost her balance and fell backwards when she crashed into an invisible barrier. The ache in her legs and chest felt like knives stabbing into her.

Pauling growled in frustration as Sniper walked away, the gates slamming shut behind him. She sighed and stared longingly outside at her motorbike before returning to Engineer's workshop. She paused outside of the door. Pauling eyed it warily before sticking her foot through it. She took a deep breath (despite not needing to) before moving the rest of the way through.

The inside of the workshop was well lit. Engineer was bent over- Oh god.

Engineer was bent over Medic's corpse, slicing into it with a scalpel. Miss Pauling cautiously inched closer to the workbench Medic's body was on. "Medic is dead?" she asked aloud, but Engineer didn't hear her. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the three puncture wounds in Medic's torso.

Miss Pauling had never cut open a cadaver before- the Administrator had never asked her to. It was sickly fascinating. Engineer winced as he pulled open Medic's chest cavity, revealing punctured lungs, a broken sternum, and quite a bit of blood. Engie inhaled sharply as he held open the ribcage and felt around for Medic's heart. He let go of the rib cage and grabbed the scalpel. A few seconds later, Engineer was gingerly pulling Medic's damaged heart out and muttering prayers for forgiveness under his breath. The Über pacemaker was ticking faintly.

"It's quite interesting, isn't it?" Pauling gasped and took a startled step back.

Medic was standing across from Engineer. He leaned against the workbench, watching her with half-lidded eyes. Miss Pauling raised another eyebrow. "Can Engineer not see you?" she asked Medic. He shook his head. "No, because I am dead, and- in consequence- a spirit. Like you, apparently." Medic's expression darkened as he watched Engineer remove the pacemaker from his heart. "I did not think I would meet you in this state, Miss Pauling," Medic said, moving around the workbench to stand next to her.

"I didn't think I'd see someone else either," Pauling replied. She crossed her arms. "I don't mean to be rude, but what happened to you, Medic? How'd you die?" Medic sneered and stared at his corpse. "Scout stabbed me to death with a needle after blaming me for your death," he spat, bringing a hand to his chest.

"But, Scout wouldn't kill someone that way! He'd shoot them, or beat them over the head or…. something!"

"He was desperate, or grieving, I suppose."

They stood in silence as Engineer tried to shove Medic's heart back into his chest cavity. "I would hold the rib cage open for him, but…." Medic muttered. Miss Pauling laughed. "Why, so you don't scare him?"

"Precisely."

Pauling stopped laughing. She shot Medic a questioning look. He scratched the back of his neck. "I believe he saw my reflection in my glasses- the ones on my body- and it gave him a scare," he said, frowning as Engineer messily stitched his cadaver closed. "Before you came in, I was making a list of things to stay away from if the living can in fact see spirits through reflective surfaces." Medic began to pace around the workbench. "Because we are both ghosts, I assume the same rules apply to you as well, so-"

Medic froze as Engineer's elbow nearly hit his shoulder. Engie mentioned something about fixing a draft before wiping the scalpel and sewing needle on a rag, covering Medic's body with a sheet and turning the lights off in the workshop. Miss Pauling and Medic didn't move until they heard Engineer locking the door. _"Verdammt!_ Now we're stuck," Medic grumbled, crossing his arms. Pauling shook her head. "No, we can just go through the wall."

"I can't."

"What?"

"I seem to have lost that ability when I decided to examine my body."

Pauling frowned. Of course Medic would mess around with his own corpse. She tried to sit down on a nearby stool, but fell through it. Pauling could hear Medic trying to stifle his laughter. "Ha ha, very funny, I know," she said, glaring at him. She pushed herself off the floor. "So, you can touch things and I can't, right?"

Medic took off his glasses and wiped his eyes, still trying not to laugh. " _Ja,_ that would appear to be the case. Forgive me for laughing, Miss Pauling," he replied, smiling sheepishly. Pauling rolled her eyes. "It's fine." Her glasses had gone lopsided when she fell, so Pauling reached up to straighten them. Her hand passed through the bridge of her nose. She let out an annoyed huff. "Alright, well, we need to figure out how to get you out of here so that we can look for help," Pauling said. Medic walked restlessly around the workshop.

"Hmm…. Well, I could always cut a hole in the door. But I won't do that to Engineer, he's been through enough today. Let's see…." Medic began babbling to himself in German as he paced. Miss Pauling couldn't understand any of it, so she picked around the dark workshop, trying to think of a solution.

* * *

The digital clock in the workshop beeped two o'clock A.M.; Medic and Pauling had been in there for four hours. Miss Pauling had taken to sitting on the floor in front of the door, while Medic was still pacing and talking to himself.

Pauling barely noticed when Medic stopped moving. "You know what?" he shouted suddenly. Pauling scooted herself around to face him. Her eyes widened at the sight of Medic brandishing a hand saw and marching towards the door. She promptly stood and scrambled out of his path. "Medic, what are you _doing?"_

"Engineer can get a new door!" he said, ramming the hand saw into the door. "And you can't stop me because you can't touch anything," he added, glancing at Miss Pauling. _I wouldn't have tried_ , she thought, watching Medic methodically cut away at the door.

Medic kicked out the square of wood he cut and shimmied through. He crouched down and beckoned for Miss Pauling to follow him through. She braced herself and slipped through the wall, joining Medic in the dark hallway. "Now come on," Pauling called over her shoulder, hurrying down the hall. "We have to get out of the base somehow so we can get help." Medic leaned back on his heels and folded his arms. "And _who_ exactly would help us?"

Miss Pauling clasped and unclasped her hands, shuffling her feet. "Um…. well, there's the wizard that always tries to take your souls so he can pay off the mafia. I'm sure he could help? It is October, after all." Medic stared blankly at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Oh, you _really_ think he'll help us, _Fraulein?_ He would rather send us to hell." He grinned darkly. "There's no hope for the damned. Anyway," Medic turned on his heel and strode up the hall the base's common room. "I have some unfinished business I need to complete."

"What sort of 'business?'" Pauling took a curious step forward. Medic paused. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her. Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow. "What's with that smug and evil look?" she asked. Medic's smile widened.

"My business is revenge, Miss Pauling."

* * *

 _Author's Note: Here is a long chapter to make up for my hiatus. I hope you enjoyed my most recent installment. As always, thank you so much for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

Demoman lay sprawled on the couch, limply holding an empty bottle of liquor. His head hurt and he wanted to sleep. He heard footsteps and lifted his head a bit to see who it was. "Engie, what're you doin' up this late?" Demo slurred. Engineer smiled weakly at him, sitting down on the couch as well. "I had to get a few things done in the workshop, you know? Keep it tidy in there and all."

Demo ran a hand down his face. "If you say so, mate." He snatched a cushion that had fallen on the floor and put it under his head. "You should get some sleep, I heard from Spy that the Administrator's comin' again day after tomorrow," Demo said. Engineer's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

"I dunno, apparently she hired a new assistant and the lass wanted the Administrator to take her to meet us."

Engineer took off his goggles and rubbed his eyes. "What are we gonna say about Medic and Scout then? I can't imagine she'll be too happy about that whole thing," he said tiredly. Engineer then sighed heavily and put his head in his hands. Demo sat up slowly and patted his teammate on the back. "I'm sure it'll be fine, you probably dunnae have to say anythin'. Spy's the one that talks to her usually, you know?"

The two sat in silence. Eventually, Engineer put his goggles back on and smiled at Demo again. "I'm gonna turn in, I'll be in my quarters if you need anything. Have a good rest of your night, Demo," he said, waving as he started to leave. Demo waved back. "Aye, you do too Engie. I'm gonna sleep out here probably, though. I've got an uneasy feeling in me stomach."

Engineer laughed. "That's probably all that liquor bitin' back!" Demoman's face solemned. "No, I don't think it's the scrumpy…." he said quietly. Engineer's face paled and he visibly tensed. Demo noticed this and raised an eyebrow at Engie. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost, lad."

"Well- that's, um…. I'm doing fine." Engineer dashed out of the common room. Demo stared after him, confused. "The bloody hell was that about?" he muttered, making himself comfortable on the couch. He turned the lamp off and lay awake in the dark for a while, softly humming "Taps."

He was just beginning to doze off when he heard soft footsteps enter the common room. Demo shivered and pulled his knees to his chest to stay warm. It must have gotten colder as the night went on. He heard whoever entered cluck their tongue at something. Then, the overhead lights abruptly turned on. Demo cried out, blinded by the sudden bright light. "What the hell, mate?! I'm trying to sleep here! What is it you want?" he asked angrily, rubbing his good eye.

There was no response. The uneasy feeling in Demo's stomach grew stronger. He lay there in the silence for a minute, debating on whether he should sit up or not. He called again, "What do you want?" Still no answer. Demo sat up and rubbed his eye again. It had become even colder than before. "Look," he said, turning to the door. "I just want to sleep, so spit it-"

Demo never finished his sentence. He stared slack-jawed at the disembodied arm, its gloved hand poised above the light switch. The hand twitched once and retreated into the shadowed hallway. _"Hey!"_ Demo shouted, leaping up from the couch. He sprinted to the doorway, only to find that no one was there. He squinted through the darkness down the corridor and thought he saw someone (or some _thing_ ) run in the direction of the front gates. Demo quickly followed.

No one was at the gates when he got there. There was only the skittering of dry leaves and an unnatural chill. Demo swallowed nervously and wrung his hands; he had a gut feeling that something was very wrong in the base. He glanced warily around the hallway before quickly walking back to the common room. He flicked the lights off and collapsed on the couch, knocking over his empty bottle of liquor in the process. His headache had come back.

It was a few hours before Demo fell into a troubled sleep, unaware that the figure he had seen stood the fallen bottle back up before traveling further into the base.

* * *

Demo jerked awake the next morning. He groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead, wishing he hadn't drunk so much last night. He rolled off the couch and thudded to the floor, lying there for a moment before sitting up. He tensed, having heard footsteps in the kitchen. He peeked over the arm of the couch to see who it was.

Sniper was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a coffee mug and observing Demo with confusion. "What are you doing, Demo?" he asked. Demo sleepily adjusted his wrinkled shirt collar and yawned. "I'm sittin' on the floor."

Sniper rolled his eyes. "I couldn't tell, smart ass." The Aussie sat down in an armchair and took a sip of coffee. "But really Demo," he began. "Why're you in here so early?" Demo shrugged, glancing at the lightswitch. "I wanted to sleep in here last night, didn't feel all that well," he responded, yawning again. Sniper grinned. "What, did you have too much to drink?" He gestured to the empty bottle on the floor. Demo glared at Sniper, causing him to grin even wider. "Shaddup, Sniper!" he said, reaching over and punching Sniper's knee. "No, it wasn't the booze. I had a gut feeling, you know? That there was somethin' afoot."

Sniper raised an eyebrow. "I think you've been gettin' way too into this paranormal stuff…." Demo shook his head. He jabbed a finger at the lightswitch. "No mate, I swear I saw something by that switch and in the hallway last night. I swear it!" Sniper shifted in the chair sipped his coffee. "What did you think it was?" he asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"It was an _arm_ , Lawrence," Demo whispered.

"….What?"

"Yeah, an arm. And it was familiar lookin', too."

Sniper stood abruptly, sloshing coffee onto his vest. "You're crazy, Demo!" he shouted. "There ain't any arms floating about. And what d'you mean, 'familiar lookin'?'" Demo scooted away from Sniper and held his hands up defensively. "There's no need to shout, lad. It had a glove on, that's what I mean," he explained. Sniper rubbed at the new coffee stain on his vest and sat back down. "It coulda been Spy, the bastard sneaks around all the time," he scoffed. Demo huffed, shaking his head. "Mate, the arm was wearin' _Medic's_ type of glove."

The coffee mug shattered on the concrete floor. "But…. Medic is dead, Tavish! Dead as a doornail! I carried his body to Engineer's workshop last night!"

Demo frowned. So that was why Engie had been up so late. "I know he's dead, Lawrence, but I saw what I saw." The puddle of coffee continued to grow. Sniper ran a hand over his face. "So, what does it all mean, then?" he said weakly. Demo pushed himself off the ground and started toward the kitchen. "It means," he said over his shoulder. "That we've got a wee supernatural problem." He left that to sink in while he snatched a dish towel from a drawer. When Demo returned, Sniper was staring blankly at the spilled coffee. Demo threw the dish towel onto the puddle.

"Some shonky business…." Sniper mumbled, reaching to pick up the shards of his mug. Demo nodded his head in agreement, absently pushing the now-soaked dish towel with his foot. "I wouldn't worry about it too much though," he said. "I don't think he's out to get anyone." Sniper looked up at Demo, confused. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Some ghosts are vengeful, but I dunnae think that Medic held a grudge against one of us."

"I didn't know ghosts could have attitudes."

"You don't know a lot of things, Sniper."

Demo received a hard kick to the shin for that comment. Sniper dumped the remains of his coffee mug onto the wet dish towel. He picked up the towel by the corners and carried it into the kitchen. "Wait a minute," Sniper called from the kitchen. "Medic was murdered by Scout." Demo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, mate, I know that. Saw it with me own eye." Sniper poked his head out from the doorframe. "I think that being murdered by a teammate would be worthy of a grudge, right?"

Demo put his head in his hands and was silent. "So that means…. He might be lookin' for Scout," he said after a while. Sniper shrugged and disappeared back into the kitchen. Demo heard the coffee machine start to run. He plopped back down on the couch and fiddled with his shirt collar again. If Medic's ghost was planning on hurting- or worse, killing- someone, then Scout had better make his way back or the team might have a bigger problem on their hands. It wasn't that he wanted Scout to die, it was just that Demo thought the boy (hopefully) could reconcile with Medic and no one would be harmed. If not, he wasn't sure if RED team could take another permanent loss.

Sniper came back into the common room with another cup of coffee and sat down again. It wasn't long before the two mercenaries heard yelling from upstairs. "You think Spy decided to trip Soldier again?" Sniper asked, leaning back in the armchair. Demo chuckled. "Probably; Spy got the _greatest_ reaction out of 'im the first time."

The shouting got louder as Sniper and Demo's teammates made their way down the stairs. "Is your pride hurt that much? You didn't even fall on your face this time!" they heard Spy tease. Soldier yelled something about cowardice and boots before someone, probably Pyro, shoved him into the commons room and yelled something unintelligible back. Sniper winced. He grabbed his hat and sunglasses from the side table and nodded to Demo. "Well, this is where I leave ya. Hope breakfast is good."

"You should stay, lad. I think it's Pyro's turn to cook, and he makes some damn good pancakes, y'know."

Sniper shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll pass for today. Need some alone-time. See you 'round." He quickly walked out into the hallway, but not before noticeably glancing at the lightswitch.

"Odd, that one," Demo muttered. He threw himself backward onto the couch just in time to avoid a stale baguette flying across the room. " _Ay!_ I thought we agreed yesterday that the only thing we're gonna ever do with bread is eat it!"

A head of cabbage landed next to him in response. "Soldier must stop throwing food at Spy! Is big waste!" Heavy bellowed from the kitchen. "He's not even close to throwing it at me, he nearly hit Demoman with that baguette," Spy responded, which elicited another yell from Soldier. An orange rolled across the concrete floor. Demo sighed and bent to pick it up. The orange was mushy; Soldier must have thrown it pretty hard.

"What the Sam Hill are they doing in there?" Demo turned around to see Engineer leaning against the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Demo jerked a thumb at the kitchen. "Spy tripped Solly again," he explained. Another orange rolled into sight. Demo picked that one up too, glancing up when Pyro's muffled cries of distress broke through the temporary silence.

Engie huffed and leaned into the kitchen. "Y'all cut it out! It's too early for this," he scolded. Demo heard Pyro murmur in agreement and heard pans and bowls clanging against each other. Deeming it safe, he slipped past Engineer into the kitchen.

Heavy was already sitting at the table, twirling a fork around in his fingers. Spy was leaning against the counter, examining his nails while Soldier dug around in the refrigerator for the milk. He found it and held the carton up triumphantly, only to have Pyro snatch it out of his hands and set it next to a mixing bowl. Engineer took his seat next to Heavy. "Does your stomach feel any better than last night, Demo?" he asked. Demo nodded, sitting down as well. "You drank too much, hm?" Spy quipped, smirking. Demo rolled his eyes. "No, I jus' wasn't feeling well. Knock it off today, Spy, would you?"

The five men were silent, save for Pyro's soft humming as they mixed the pancake batter. "Where is Sniper?" Heavy asked eventually. Demo shrugged. "I dunno, probably in his van doing…. whatever he does. Wanted some alone-time, he said."

Spy scoffed. "How much 'alone-time' does he need? All he does is sit in his nest and stare into his scope, all alone." He lit a cigarette. "And he's rarely in the base; he sleeps in that van of his and is outside doing who-knows-what most of the time." Engineer stood up. "Y'all need to stop pickin' on Sniper. Everyone needs space, and he…. He just needs more of it than others. And don't smoke in the base! You know how Medic feels about that," he chided. Spy took a long drag from his cigarette, and then blew the smoke in Engie's face. "Why should I not? Medic is not here to threaten me with-"

In the blink of an eye, Engineer had taken the glove off of his right hand to expose the Gunslinger. He held the clawed metal hand close to Spy's neck. "Put out the cigarette. Now." Spy rolled his eyes and flicked his cigarette into the sink. "Radio me when breakfast is ready," he told Pyro, then he cloaked and left the kitchen. Pyro muttered something that sounded like "This always happens," before returning to pouring pancake batter into a skillet.

Demo scratched his neck. "Damn, you looked about ready to gut 'im," he said. Engineer shook his head. "That wasn't my intention, I just wanted to shut him up." He pulled the glove back over the Gunslinger. "I think we're all having a rough time with this, Engie," Demo said. "Spy might be feeling out of it, too."

Engie sighed. "Yeah, probably. I shouldn't have been that aggressive." Heavy clapped a large hand on Engineer's shoulder. "No, Spy needed to know his place," he said.

An orange rolled across the floor again. Soldier was still rummaging around in the refrigerator. "Solly, what're you lookin' for, lad? You're letting the cold out, things'll go bad," Demo said. Soldier replied over his shoulder, "I have no idea what I'm looking for." He continued to rummage. It was Pyro who finally pulled him away and closed the refrigerator.

They ate their pancakes in silence. Pyro radioed Spy and he appeared at the table a few minutes later. He said nothing and made no eye contact as he sat down. Several minutes passed before Soldier broke the tense silence. "Is it just me, or is it cold in here?"

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Engineer said, pulling down his sleeves. Demo's eye widened as he glanced around nervously. Heavy raised an eyebrow. "I could not tell." Pyro said something like "stupid air" before getting up to check the thermostat in the hallway. "Was the temperature down?" Engie asked when Pyro returned. They shook their head "no" before returning to their pancakes. "I'll take a look at the system later, it's been cold everywhere recently," he said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

Demo dropped his fork and stared, slack-jawed, at the furthest corner of the kitchen.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Again, I apologize for such a long hiatus. Life just likes to hit us with bricks sometimes. Regardless, I truly appreciate every single one of you and your continuing support of this story. Hopefully, very soon I will be able to also make_ Past Expiration Date _available on Archive of Our Own. As always, please feel free to leave your thoughts and constructive criticisms. Thank you for your patience, and for reading!_


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